


crying obsidian

by yuudoufu



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fist Fights, Gen, Suicide, Time Loop, dissociation???, mentions of wanting to gouge someone's eyes out, toffee swirls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29799681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuudoufu/pseuds/yuudoufu
Summary: the deck of cards fate deals tommy is not in his favorhe relives the day dream kills him over and over againthe only one that cries for him when he dies is the obsidian that sheds tears of purple from abovethe rest of the world is dead silent
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 94
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	crying obsidian

Tommyinnit’s life had ended like the last notes of a poorly written piano piece—on an interrupted chord that made the instrument itself weep in physical pain. 

With a fist to the face, his head was knocked backward as he was slammed back into the wall behind him. There was excruciating pain throbbing in his jaw, his eye sockets, his brain, but all in a moment’s second—it disappeared. Such as that of the last movement of an orchestral piece, his symphony had welled to its climax before ending abruptly on an unsatisfied note. 

There was merely silence after. No audience came to applaud him for his perseverance nor anyone to comfort him of his suffering. There was only a gentle white bliss that held onto him as a mother would to her child, carrying him through infinite vast space. 

But he was a fool to allow himself to think that he was truly _free_.

Freedom always came with a price. That, Tommy knew. He’d been in multiple wars where he’d gained and lost and died for what he believed in, for the independence of his country, and for the sake of those he cared for.

So when his life ended without mercy, he should have known better to think that he would be granted clemency in death. The universe does not play fair, and the cards Fate has dealt him are not in Tommy’s favor. 

_Freedom always comes at a price_. Fate laughs in his face and flips the last card out of three onto its face, and dread settles upon Tommy’s shoulders like talons of a starved falcon while he’s floating in that gentle white bliss. 

The warmth disappears. Melds into cold. Freezing, freezing cold. It stabs into his eyes, gouging them out; it sinks its teeth into his skin, ripping it off his body; it delves deep, deep, _deep_ into his soul and rips his heart and flesh from the inside out. Something wraps around his lungs and squeezes _hard_ , bruising his airway and rendering Tommy unable to breathe.

And then does he thrash, because the pain is intolerable, and he wants whatever thing that’s sunk into his skin _out_. He wants it out, out, out, out, outoutoutout— But it stays _in_. It seals onto his bones like hot wax and travels up his throat when he opens his mouth to breathe. 

Tommy claws at his neck, _get out, get out, get out_ — 

There’s laughter in his ears. A cackle that pitches in several octaves to a low wheeze. And he knows, he knows, he _knows_ —

The Joker card stares back at Tommy with black eyes in the distance, its face twisted into an expression of mockery, lips twisted upward in a crude smile with its mouth wide open. 

It swallows him whole.

Then he’s back in the blink of an eye. 

Dream.

(Dream?)

Dream stands in the corner of the cell. 

(The cell?)

Obsidian cries above him with purple tears. It stains the ground in puddles of sparkling midnight that seems to hold a whole other world within. Tommy finds himself staring into one, looking back at his own disheveled hair and dull eyes. 

(He’s alive?)

Lava bubbles and pops in tandem with Tommy’s breathing. 

(Looks like the curtain hasn’t been drawn at the end of his performance after all.)

He keeps quiet, eyes locked with Dream’s. They stare at each other from across the room. 

“Why are you looking at me all weird?” Dream asks as if Tommy’s not dead. 

“You killed me.”

“Sorry?” 

“Why the fuck am I back.”

Dream is unfazed, that fucker. “You were always here. I don’t know what you mean.” 

“You fucking well know what you did, you bitch,” Tommy seethes, ignoring the ticking of the clock on the wall. His eyes flit over to his place of death. The wall is clean of blood. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dream says calmly.

“You _motherfucker_.” Tommy storms up to Dream, grabbing the other by the collar of his shirt with a fist that turns white from how tight he’s gripping the fabric. “Look into my fucking eyes and dare you say that you have no idea what the _fuck_ just happened.” 

“I swear, I was here the entire time! I can’t even go out if I wanted to.” 

“You are fucking with me right now!” Tommy lands a blow to Dream’s face, and boy does it feel fucking great to have done that. He clenches and unclenches his fist, knuckles throbbing slightly, but the sweetness of payback sugarcoats the pain. “You revived me you son of a bitch! You know what you fucking did! You bastard— You, You—”

Dream sputters out an incoherent reply, nursing his cheek from Tommy’s blow. His nose is bleeding in a smear of red. “No, you look here. I don’t fucking know what the fuck you’re on, but I did no shit. Do you see this place?” Dream gestures to the black walls and the lava’s orange glow. His glare is filled with fire, fire that Tommy wishes he could extinguish just as Dream had done to his. “There’s no way out of here. You’re delusional. You’re delusional! And you think. You think I’m the one with the mind games. Maybe you need to get your fucking head checked.” He spits at Tommy’s shoes. 

Tommy punches Dream again, this time harder, with more force, like he fucking means it. Half of his brain is grateful for this chance to plummet the shit out of his abuser, and the other half is still bent over the fact that he’s back in this hellhole.

“That’s a bold fucking take for someone who crushed my head against the wall. You used me like a puppet, you dipshit, ‘get your brain checked’ my ass.” Tommy kicks Dream in the stomach, all his pent-up anger fueling the aching joints in his body. 

This time, Dream hacks out blood, and the satisfying feeling expands in Tommy’s chest because— _good_ , he fucking deserves this. Dream deserves this more than anyone in this dimension, and Tommy wasn’t going to let this motherfucker take away any more of his lives again. 

“I—” 

Tommy’s fist meets Dream eye this time, and Dream yells out, groaning in pain. He doubles over, then retracts from how hard Tommy had kicked him, flopping onto his side like a fish. 

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear any more of your bullcrap. If I had it my way, your tongue would have been cut out by now.” Tommy seizes Dream by the collar again, preparing to punch the shit out of the other. 

“Enough! Enough!” Dream grabs Tommy’s wrist, and the remaining strength he has nearly snaps Tommy’s hand off his arm. His abuser overpowers him in an instant, sending Tommy stumbling backward, landing on the obsidian. He falls, his mind screaming at him to get up while he can only stare at the ceiling as he falls.

The ground thrums underneath his palms as Dream kneels on Tommy’s legs and, with a bruised cheek and half-closed eye, starts punching the boy. 

Tommy sputters, turning his head left and right trying to dodge the blows, but to no avail. The punches keep raining upon his throat, his eyes, his forehead, sending sparks of pain rippling through his skull and his throat. 

The only one that cries for him when his body goes still is the obsidian that sheds tears of purple from above.

( _Freedom always comes at a price_. Fate laughs in his face and flips the last card out of three onto its face, and dread settles upon Tommy’s shoulders like talons of a starved falcon while he’s floating in that gentle white bliss. 

The Joker eats him alive once more and)

he’s back.

Dream.

Stands in the corner.

Watching him.

He doesn’t want to be back.

He wants to be at peace.

“What are you staring at me all weird for?” Dream asks.

_Because you fucking revived me again._

Tommy’s tired. He keeps his mouth shut. 

The lava bubbles in sync with his breathing. The clock ticks in the distance. The obsidian drips from the roof. 

“Usually you’re more active around this time of day, you know?” Dream takes the clock and fumbles with it. “You hungry? We have potatoes.” 

_Don’t care about your goddamn potatoes._

The room lapses into silence again. 

The lava bubbled in sync with Tommy’s breathing. The clock ticks in Dream’s hand. The obsidian drips from the roof. 

“Sam,” Tommy says. His mouth is dry. He wishes he can drink the lava. “Are you there?”

“He’s gone off duty,” Dream hums with a potato in hand. “He’s not gonna answer you.”

“Can I leave yet?’ Tommy tries. 

Silence.

It’s feeble. Of course, it’s futile. It’ll always be futile. 

Tommy lays down on his side. An invisible pain of raining fists on his cheekbones throb in his face. He stands up, clenching and unclenching his fist. 

He’s restless. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. Especially not with Dream. He can’t take it. Any longer, and he’ll snap. 

He wants to punch Dream. He wants to plummet Dream again, this time more successfully. He wants to see that motherfucker squirming on the ground, helpless like him the last time he was here. 

He wants to see blood. He wants to see blood that isn’t his. He wants to see Dream’s blood spill over black as it bleeds into the misty purple puddles collecting on the ground. 

Tommy punches Dream without a word spoken. On impulse. Anger coils in his veins. His punch doesn’t do much. He’s tired. 

“What the fuck,” Dream spits, cradling his cheek, staring Tommy directly in the eyes. And there’s that fire again in his irises, so similar to the ones Wilbur had told Tommy he’d had during the war for their independence. The same flame that Dream had snuffed out all in a breath’s moment. 

Tommy wants to gouge Dream’s eyes out. He wants to see that flame extinguished. He wants to see it gone. He wants Dream to stop staring at him like he has another chance to manipulate the boy. He wants Dream—

Tommy tackles Dream before he can think, but his limbs are feeble and his nails are cut short, caked with dirt as he tries raking them over Dream’s eyes, attempting to claw out those ender-colored pupils. He wants them gone, but his arms are lax and his hands strain and the anger within him is dying out. 

Dream’s eyelids are red, blood beading out from the rashes. That slips under Tommy’s fingernails too. The white is stained with red. Tommy smiles sinisterly. He wants more, more, _more_ —

But again, Tommy finds his vision blurring as he flips over onto his back, overpowered by Dream, as he’ll always be. 

The punches rain down upon him like the obsidian’s tears. 

The only one that cries for him when his body goes still is the obsidian that sheds tears of purple from above.

( _Freedom always comes at a price_. Fate laughs in his face and flips the last card out of three onto its face, and dread settles upon Tommy’s shoulders like talons of a starved falcon while he’s floating in that gentle white bliss. 

The Joker eats him alive once more and)

he’s back.

Dream.

Standing in the corner.

Watching him.

Why are you staring at me all weirdly?

Because you fucking revived me, that’s fucking what.

Usually you’re more active around this time of day, you know? You hungry? We have potatoes.

I don’t care about your damn potatoes.

Where is Sam?

Sam’s gone. He’s off duty for the day. You won’t be able to call him. 

Tommy paces because laying on the ground reminds me of the brutality of Dream’s hands. 

He sees the fire in Dream’s eyes again.

He wants to claw them out.

He remembers how that went last time. 

He’s tired. 

Tommy’s tired.

The lava pops in sync with his breathing. The clock ticks in the distance. The obsidian drips from the roof. 

The lava pops in sync with his breathing.

_The lava pops in sync with his breathing._

Tommy realizes

He could

He could

He _could_

He could die right now

Tommy looks at the lava in all its ever-glowing glory. He wants to call out for Sam again. Just to check. He notices Dream staring at him from the other end of the room. He keeps his mouth shut. 

The lava is warmer than how it felt when Phil hugged him when he was young. He reaches a hand out, almost scooping it up. It reminds him of the sun. 

The sun is here, and Tommy closes his eyes. He imagines himself flying free. 

(Tommy, no!)

He falls forward.

The only one that cries for him when his body burns is the obsidian that sheds tears of purple from above.

( _Freedom always comes at a price_. Fate laughs in his face and flips the last card out of three onto its face, and dread settles upon Tommy’s shoulders like talons of a starved falcon while he’s floating—

The Joker eats him alive once more—)

he’s back

the lava pops in sync with his breathing the clock ticks in the distance the obsidian drips from the roof

he doesn’t hesitate to throw himself in the fire again

dream grabs him by the back of his shirt before he can fall

what the fuck are you doing

_getting away from you_

tommy rips himself from dream’s grasp

he throws himself into the greedy fire

the only one that cries for him when his body burns is the obsidian that sheds tears of purple from above

( _Freedom always comes at a price_. Fate laughs in his face and flips the last card out of three onto its face, and dread settles upon Tommy’s shoulders—

The Joker eats him alive once—)

he throws himself into a fire that loves him more than his father ever did

( _Freedom always comes at a price_. Fate laughs in his face and flips the last card out of three onto its face—

The Joker eats him alive—)

he’s burning

burning from the inside out

cooked alive 

boiled down to nothing but a carcass of bones and an empty husk of what he once used to be

( _Freedom always comes at a price_. Fate laughs in his face and flips the last card— 

The Joker eats him—)

this time he believes that the fire is hugging him back with all the warmth he could never obtain in this world

( _Freedom always comes at a price_. Fate laughs in his face—

The Joker—)

_the only one that cries for him when his body burns is the obsidian that sheds tears of purple from above_

_the only one that cries for him when his body blisters is the obsidian that sheds tears of purple from above_

_the only one that cries for him when his body blazes is the obsidian that sheds tears of purple from above_

The rest of the world is dead silent.

**Author's Note:**

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